


The Great Trap

by octopus_fool



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Khazâd November
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 19:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: Something about the numbers in the books doesn't add up. King Óin is determined to find out what is going on.





	The Great Trap

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 19 of [Khazâd November](https://a-grump-of-dwarves.tumblr.com/post/166304116735/khaz%C3%A2d-november-2017), the additional prompt was "forge".  
> 

Óin looked at the books in puzzlement. The money spend on iron had risen significantly in the past couple of months. Small shipments, mostly for pots, pans and cutlery. Óin was not aware that there was suddenly such a need for new pots, pans and cutlery in the Grey mountains. The amounts of coal bought had also risen significantly. There was something odd about it, even though he had no idea what was going on. Yet. Because Óin intended to find out. 

Óin went to ask the shopkeepers if there had been and rise in demand for pots or the like. They looked at him in surprise.

“No, everything has been as usual, Your Majesty.”

Óin thanked them and made his way towards where the carters kept their ponies and carts. He asked around, careful not to step in anything the ponies had left on the street. 

The answer was the same everywhere. “No, we haven’t been asked to transport any unusual amounts of iron. 

Óin was approaching the royal quarters when he saw Dári, his own carter. He looked tired, Óin thought.

“Good evening, Dári. Are things well with your wife and children?”

Dári smiled. “Yes, quite well. They have reached that age where they spend their time with a tutor rather than constantly getting into trouble.”

“That’s good. Have you heard anything about unusual shipments going in or out of the town?”

“No, nothing,” Dári said, not meeting his eyes. 

“That’s good then,” Óin replied. “I’d better be off then. Prince Náin is probably already waiting for me to return.”

Dári rubbed his neck. “Actually, I don’t think he is. He saddled his pony earlier to visit friends out of town.”

“Well, I hope he reaches them before nightfall. The roads are not as safe as they could be, and that’s not even counting the dragons.”

“He should have, it’s not that far.”

Interesting, Óin thought. It seemed Dári knew where Náin had set out to and Náin had often been visiting friends recently. Náin was up to something, Óin was sure of it. He wondered if there was a dwarrowdam involved. 

On an impulse, Óin went to the treasure vault. A brief count revealed that there was less gold than usual, which was strange, because the money for the iron shipments had come from the town’s vault. Óin counted the gold a little more closely and realised that the missing amount was almost exactly Náin’s savings. He was definitely up to something.

And while Náin was of age and had the right to do what he wanted to, within the law, Óin preferred to be informed about his plans. That all this was taking place in secret made him suspicious.

Óin knew better than to confront Dári. Instead of stopping him when he left the settlement the next day with his cart, Óin waited a few more days and told one of his spies to see where he went. Dári turned pale when Óin stopped him a few days later. 

No excuses he made could stop Óin from lifting the cloth over the cart. And there, spread out in front of him, lay rows upon rows of iron rods. They looked like the ones used to make chains, only much larger, Óin realised.

“Did you pay the tolls on iron for this?” Óin asked sternly.

“Yes, of course I did!”

“Well good, make sure you show me the paperwork when you get back,” Óin said.

“I will, of course.”

Óin let him hurry off, taking the road to the West. When Óin later looked out of the watchtower by the gate, he could see Dári doubling back and turning north, just like he had expected him to. 

It wasn’t a particularly kingly thing to do, but when he saw that Dári had packed his cart with the next load, Óin crawled under the cloth and waited. It wasn’t terribly comfortable to lie on the coal, but Óin had been through worse. He managed to snooze off a while after Dári set off.

He woke when the cloth was lifted. 

“Mahal’s beard! What are you doing here, Adad?”

“I had hoped for a little more enthusiasm from my son,” Óin replied with a grin, looking around.

He was in the old forge which lay several miles north of the town, just like he had suspected. The furnaces were running and piles of enormous chains lay around. Besides his dismayed son, there were quite a few other young dwarves who had been working at the anvils and who were now staring at their king in his plain clothes.

“So what is this supposed to become?” Óin asked. “And don’t you dare tell me anything about pots, pans or cutlery. You don’t need chains of that size for that. I want the truth.”

Náin looked at him for a moment, weighing his options.

“I am sick of waiting for the next attack,” he said finally. “I am making a trap.”

“For a dragon?!” The pieces finally dropped into place in Óin’s head.

Náin nodded. 

“You want to catch a dragon. A real, fire-breathing dragon.”

“Yes. I don’t need that kind of chain for a goat,” Náin said defiantly.

“And where do you want to catch it? Here?” Óin asked, his eyes following the chains to where they were anchored in the walls.

“Yes. Less effort than transporting the trap and all the chains elsewhere.”

Óin walked over to the end of one of the chains and tapped the wall. “Hm, I see. And how will this trap of yours work?”

He listened as Náin explained it to him.

“So in the end, you will have a live, fire-breathing dragon tied up in chains in here, if all goes according to plan. What are you going to do with a live dragon? Use him to fry sausages?”

Náin glared at him. “The main thing is that the dragon is caught, isn’t it?”

“Not if it then proceeds to light you and all your helpers on fire. Not to mention that these chains won’t stay in the wall, not like this.”

“They will hold.”

Óin took a deep breath. “You know, I actually like the idea.”

Náin stared at him in disbelief. “You do?”

Óin nodded. “Yes, the basic idea, not the way it is executed here. We need to consult the council and the kingdom’s best engineers. And come up with an idea of what to do with a live dragon. Or how to avoid having a _live_ dragon to deal with, when all is done.”

Náin huffed. “I’ll be old and grey by the time the council decides anything.”

“Better than young and dead. The council does actually have some good ideas sometimes, and this is something that concerns the entire kingdom. After all, there is the possibility that the dragon would escape, and then we’d have a furious dragon at hand, not just a greedy one. Besides, the gold you have here won’t be enough to attract a dragon. We’ll need a larger sum and we need the council for that.”

“We?” Náin asked.

“Yes, we. I think I’ll join your little plot, again, under the condition that the council is asked and proper plans are drawn up and discussed with my engineers first. But for now, I suggest we unload the coal and use the cart to transport the gold back to town where it will be safer until we have a functioning trap.”

Náin grudgingly nodded and they set to work, Óin’s mind running through the possibilities of how to make this work.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m currently taking Christmas/Yuletide/winter requests/prompts over on Dreamwidth! If you’re interested, read more here: <https://octopus-fool.dreamwidth.org/2017/12/03/>


End file.
